Queen Under the Mountain
by whitetigerwolf
Summary: As Balin tells the story of the Battle of Azanulbizar, Thorin remember his wife. Movie-verse. Thorin/OC. One-Shot. COMPLETE.


**I Do Not Own The Hobbit**

**I wrote this story for two reasons. The first was that I wanted to end one of the stories I'm working on similarly, but as that would end the story long before I need it to, I transferred it to this one. The second reason is that, in the movie, Thorin says that Azog died of his wounds long ago, and I refuse to believe he's such an inexperienced warrior that he doesn't realize Azog could survive having his arm cut off, and the significance of the white warg the Goblin King mentions.**

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There are things Thorin Oakenshield refuses to share, Balin know this all too well. Thrain's son has endured much pain in his life, and even he, Thorin's most trusted adviser, is not sure he knows everything Thorin went through.

But Balin keeps his king's secrets, even if his king has no kingdom. Even as he explains to Fíli, Kíli, and Bilbo just one of Thorin's reasons to hate orcs, he does not share the biggest reason, the reason that Thorin refuses to speak of. The reason that caused his heart to harden the most.

It is a reason that Balin only knows because of his own involvement.

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As Balin tells the story of the Battle of Azanulbizar, Thorin looks out over the wilderness. Memories assault the dwarf. But they are not memories of the battle, they are more painful

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It had been three months after Azanulbizar and, though he did not show it, the grief of his grandfather's death and father's disappearance was still fresh.

He had spent the last few months helping establish his people in the Blue Mountains, but he needed to get away. Not only did he need time to grieve, but he hoped to hear word of the Lonely Mountain.

His home.

It had been in the forest he had met her. A human woman, dressed in the garb of a ranger. She had offered him a place at her campfire, introducing herself as Ilaína

She had been beautiful. Tall, for a human woman, she had towered over the muscular dwarf. With hair as red as the purest ruby and eyes as green as emeralds that sparkled like diamonds. Her voice, it was the most beautiful thing he had ever heard.

And somehow, she had gotten him to confide in her, to share his grief.

For several months, they traveled together, and Thorin found himself falling in love with her. And after a year in her company, he admitted it to her. To his joy, she returned his feelings. And in a simple private ceremony that was just between the two of them, they wed. He had forged their rings, which were simple bands, of a silver alloy that did not tarnish.

Shortly afterward, they had been traveling to meet Balin, not only to check on the Thorin's people and for news, but to tell his oldest friend that he had wed.

They had set up camp two days easy ride from Balin's home.

And it was then that they were ambushed.

Azog had survived the removal of his arm and led a band of orcs and wargs against him. The pale orc rode a rare white warg.

He and Ilaína fought. She picked orcs off with her bow, while he hacked the wargs with his axe. And when she ran out of arrows, Ilaína drew her simple sword and fought beside him.

But as they were surrounded, Thorin was blind to Azog's location, until Ilaína pushed him to the ground and he heard her gasp.

Turning, he was horrified to see Azog standing behind her, a cruel smirk on his face as his horrible prosthetic arm pierced Ilaína's back.

Thorin screamed in pain and anger as his beloved, his queen, fell to the ground. He didn't remember the following moments, falling into a berserker fury. His next memory was dropping his bloody sword as he knelt beside his wife.

To his relief, she had been breathing.

It took all his strength to lift her onto her horse, and climb behind her. And with one last look and the bloodied body of Azog, never checking the orc's body confident that the filth was dead, he galloped away towards Balin's home as if the very dragon that had driven his people from Erebor was his tail.

He reached Balin's sooner than anticipated, and screamed for his old friend.

To say Balin had been shocked to see Thorin and an injured woman astride a regular horse was an understatement. But the old dwarf had moved fast, helping him remove Ilaína from the horse and carry her inside. There they did their best to treat her wounds.

And for five days she fought to survive, Thorin never leaving her side.

And on the fifth day, she smiled at him.

"Thorin, my love, kiss me," she demanded, her voice weak.

Thorin had smiled, thinking her request a sign of recovery, and he lightly leaned over and kissed her.

But when he pulled back, there had been no life in her eyes, or breath in her lungs. He screamed for Balin, but it was too late.

His wife was dead.

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Thorin closed his eyes, placing his hand over his chest where both he and Ilaína's wedding rings rested on a chain under his tunic.

He removed his hand as he turned and saw the rest of the company.

"What happened…to the pale orc?" Bilbo asked softly, but not soft enough that Thorin couldn't hear.

Before Balin could respond, Thorin spat, "That filth died of his wounds long ago!" Giving the company one last look, he made his way to the watch post.

He knew that, tonight, nightmares would come. And though he knew he needed sleep, he could at least put the dreams off for a few short hours.

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